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User blog:Leea/The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 67
Previous Chapters 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th, 9th, 10th, 11th, 12th, 13th, 14th, 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th, 19th, 20th, 21st, 22nd, 23rd, 24th, 25th, 26th, 27th, 28th, 29th, 30th, 31st, 32nd, 33rd, 34th, 35th, 36th, 37th, 38th, 39th, 40th, 41st, 42nd, 43rd, 44th, 45th, 46th, 47th, 48th, 49th, 50th, 51st, 52nd, 53rd, 54th, 55th, 56th, 57th, 58th, 59th, 60th, 61st, 62nd, 63rd, 64th, 65th, 66th The Tale of Voronwe, Chapter 67 4th Era 171, 5th of Second Seed, Summerset Isle There was a major increase in naval traffic. Curwe could step outside without hassle, but he couldn't at all. None of the vessels were within "detail distance" as he called it (being able to see the details of a ship, such as crew moving around on deck, rigging, and intricacies of the flags flying from the masts, etc.), but he wasn't taking any chances. All he needed was one ship a little closer than usual and that could be it. How suspicious would a white figure be, roaming around on the beach? Assuming the crew didn't jump to conclusions about ghosts, they could drop anchor and come ashore to investigate, and they would find him...or interrogate Curwe, and he wasn't going to let that happen. He'd wait for it to be nighttime before he even set one foot outside, and even then he would wait until moonless nights before he ventured to the front yard, with its view of the ocean. * * * Balasian leaned on the windowsill, invisibility cloaking him from sight. Curwe knew he was there, however, as she tended to the flower plants in the front yard. "It doesn't bother you that someone you can't see is watching you?" he asked, readjusting his footing. She smiled. "No, it doesn't. I know who it is, after all." "True." he smirked. He watched as she pruned the bushes. "But say you didn't know me, but just sensed an invisible presence watching. Would it bother you?" "I don't know," Curwe mused. "I guess it would depend on whether it seemed hostile or not." "And what if there were two invisble presences?" a voice asked, directly behind her. Curwe called out in shock as she jumped up, and Balasian's eyes snapped up, seeing Orthendar flash into view behind her. As the ghost laughed, Curwe whirled around, a deep scowl on her face. "You do that on purpose! You enjoy it, I know it! Why else would you play these blasted pranks on me?" she scolded, shaking the pruning shears at him. "Like our friend here doesn't play jokes on you," Orthendar smirked, head at a cocky angle and his arms folded over his chest. "Maybe, but at least I can smack him in retaliation. I can't even do anything to you." she grumbled, shaking the shears at him again. There was a slight creak as Balasian - still invisible - adjusted his position on the windowsill. "True. But would you want to?" he asked, bantering with them. She shifted her irritated gaze over. "What?" "You can't hurt him with conventional means. That includes those pruning shears there. But, then again, why would you want to hurt him? Just look at him. Does that look like malovence to you?" She looked back up at Orthendar's face. He was smiling, his lustrous scarlet hair pooling on his shoulders. He was similar in appearance to Balasian, barring the obvious differences of hair color and Balasian's much more delicate chin. Not to mention the subtle glow and near imperceptible transparency of the ghost before her. Curwe growled, frustrated, through her gritted teeth before tossing the shears at him, passing harmlessly through his ethereal form. His smile grew wider. He switched his gaze over to the windowsill, where his long-time comrade still stood. With his supernatural senses, he could see past the invisibility that still cloaked Balasian. "You've got a fighter on your hands. Better watch out for her." He grinned. "I know. Sometimes her heart burns so bright, I don't even need to light the fireplace." Orthendar laughed, then pivoted around, hand extended. The shears in the sand behind him glided, floating through the air and hovered over his palm. He turned back to Curwe and extended his hand, offering the floating tool. After a moment, she took back the shears. "Are you going to toss them again?" Balasian asked, his smile lopsided. "Depends if he makes another bad joke." she muttered, narrowing her eyes at the ghost. Orthendar grinned, showing off luminous white teeth. "What brings you to our humble cottage, old friend?" Balasian asked, resting his palms on the window frame. The ghost looked up and over. He turned serious, though some of his humor remained in the brilliance of his eyes. "I have news you'll want to hear." Category:Blog posts